Logs:Pre-Flight Jitters
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| RL Date: 13 December, 2015 |
| Who: Ivraeth, Taeliyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two female dragons discuss flights and winners before one rises. |
| Where: Sunning Spot, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 7, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Piling up during the night, the clouds darken and thicken oppressively in the early part of the day. At first distant, thunder roams closer so that, before lunch, the rain and lightning arrive, coupled with a quick, directionless-seeming wind. Throughout the afternoon and evening, the storm continues, eventually petering into a light rain that lasts through the night. |
| Mentions: Mirinda/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions |
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| Unlike Zaisavyth, Ivraeth claims nothing except one bit of the sunning spot as the heat of her mind grows. The storm around her, the sheets of rain that slick off subtly glowing hide, doesn't seem to bother her. Indeed, it only seems to encourage the way the jungle of her mind continues growing, blooming, under heat and rain. Roots have made their way into Fort, though specifically they find their way into the minds of male dragons, encouraging them to watch her as she makes sure that she can be seen. (To Fort dragons from Ivraeth) It's not only the males of the weyr who've taken notice of the sunning green. Taeliyth's watchful presence seems stronger focused on the green with her sinuous roots and increasing heat. « You will rise soon, » ends up her greeting as the watching becomes less distant, the gold alighting on some stones near- but not too near-by. (To Ivraeth from Taeliyth) « Soon, » today, is the agreement of Ivraeth's thoughts as they touch on the queen's. There's a slow stretch of her neck as she twists to watch the gold land, every movement graceful and precise, performed for the show of it for anyone who might be watching. « I have never risen here. I've never risen away from Monaco. » And a soft regret brushes her thoughts, that none of the males she knows will be here; she will not be calling them here. (To Taeliyth from Ivraeth) « It seems like a good place to rise, » Taeliyth observes. She wouldn't want to rise anywhere else, herself, but to each their own. « The males here are very ardent in their efforts. I've watched. » Of course she has. It's said with a certain innocence. She's never risen after all. « Will you enjoy it? » (To Ivraeth from Taeliyth) Of course the gold will rise in her Weyr, that much is obvious in Ivraeth's thoughts, but it's the growing jungle that reaches for the sky that answers, « I have the freedom to rise anywhere I want on Pern. With any chasers and I may choose anyone to catch, without worry. » A pause, before she agrees with warm anticipation, « Of course I will enjoy it. It won't mean eggs or change, but we will make it matter. » (To Taeliyth from Ivraeth) « You also don't have to be chained to the hatching sands, » Taeliyth observes, doubly sour for the fact that Zaisavyth will soon occupy the-- her-- hatching sands (the possessiveness is there, but minor, bitterly conceding to Zaisavyth's greater claim) and the fact that one day, she'll have to dutifully do the same. « Would you want eggs, if you could have them? » It's an honest inquiry and followed by the observation that, « That glow does show you to your best. » (To Ivraeth from Taeliyth) The compliment is well received, Ivraeth tilting her head just so to show off that glow where it catches on her ivy green hide, sparkling golden-hued honeyed highlights. « And they will chase, and be despondent that they cannot win, » is the point of it, because who wouldn't want her is held in cocky arrogance in her thoughts. « No. We will deal with them when they hatch and guide them; there's no need but the strongest to produce them. » That, at least, she will give to the queen and the absent Zaisavyth. And perhaps Vhaeryth as well, and whoever Taeliyth will choose. (To Taeliyth from Ivraeth) « They will. But only one can win, » that much seems to appeal to Taeliyth in the way this whole crazy dragon mating thing works. « Make him work for it, » she encourages, « I will watch what I may see. » She won't occupy the skies while Ivraeth flies, she won't distract the males, but she'll watch the chase and perhaps even cheer Ivraeth on. (To Ivraeth from Taeliyth) The line of their thoughts seems to trigger a change inside the green, an inability to wait any longer as she sweeps a gaze over the males whose attention she has caught. « Watch and learn, » she suggests to the younger dragon, a self-assurance as she stretches to her feet, the glow only growing brighter. And soon, soon she'll launch herself into the skies without blooding, a race of pumping adrenaline and speed rather than anything meant to last. (To Taeliyth from Ivraeth) |
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